|Damned - 051314 - Miz B|
I've heard it said that your soulmate is someone whose demons play well with yours. Sometimes love is your salvation, but sometimes there can be no happy ending. Sometimes the best you can do is to love, hope that they know they are loved, and be there until they are consumed by their own despair. Sometimes, the closest you can come to redemption is to hold their hand at the end, desperate to believe that knowing they aren't alone in their final moments will somehow be enough.
Undeniably, there is a fine line between genius and madness. It's especially true in the tortured soul of an artist. Make no mistake, to be a wildly passionate lover is an art. To rampage through a woman's soul requires a certain creativity and daring. To stimulate all the pleasures, one must have suffered and been lost in angst. The dangers of love require a bold heart, undeterred by risk and ruin. Is it any wonder then that the most intense of love affairs often revolve around a dark streak of self-destruction?
To love a woman like herself, a man must be unhindered by the rules. Perhaps having nothing to lose made the pursuit of her more appealing. Over and over, she learned that damaged men were drawn to her - like a siren on the rocks she was a glorious means of emotional suicide. She was irresistible, unattainable, and completely obedient to the whims of her heart. She was the best of him, brought out the worst in him, and would be sacrificed on the altar of her devotion to him.
In the end, he loved a woman he could not reach. She loved a man she'd already lost. They were damned by their love and the inevitability of its disastrous demise.